


Alice & Contraband: A Silver Nuzlocke

by pyranine



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions, Pokemon
Genre: Gen, Nuzlocke Challenge, Original Pokemon Trainer - Freeform, POV: Pokemon, Pokeball(s), Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon Battle, Pokemon Death, Pokemon Journey, Pokemon Silver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyranine/pseuds/pyranine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after almost two years of enrollment in Unova's Elite Combat Academy, rumours about the analytical, ruthless, cold-as-steel Little-Red-Riding-Hood-From-Hell haven't died down in the slightest. Expelled from a reform school, set fire to some sort of building, set fire to a reform school. None of those are true, but her peers are right about one thing: her past wasn't pretty.</p><p>Alice doesn't seem to care too much, as long as she's more or less at the top of her class; but dealing with stuck-up Unova kids in a private academy just isn't her cup of tea. Luckily for her, ECA is offering a bit of a..."cultural exchange" program: the Johto-Kanto Challenge. </p><p>Alice needs to win, and she'll stop at next to nothing. It's a homecoming, and just in time, too.</p><p>Her two-year ban is almost up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alice & Contraband: A Silver Nuzlocke

**Author's Note:**

> Gijinka|Written|Autumn Community Nuzlocke
> 
> To read on the Forums: http://s7.zetaboards.com/Nuzlocke_Forum/topic/9174551/1/?x=0#post9207450
> 
> Rules: 
> 
> 1\. You may only catch the first Pokemon encountered in any given area.  
> \--1a. Dupes clause is OFF. If you encounter a Pokemon you already own as your first encounter, that is your catch.  
> \--1b. For areas with multiple floors or similar, such as the Whirl Islands and Mt. Mortar, you are only allowed one catch for the whole area, NOT one catch per floor. In Mt. Silver, you may NOT catch in the outside area, but you can get a catch inside the cave. (This is because the area right before the outside of Mt. Silver has the same encounter rates as the previous route, whereas the inside of Mt. Silver actually offers different catches.)  
> \--1c. Shiny clause is on-- with the exception of the Red Gyarados, any shiny Pokemon may ignore the first-encounter rule.  
> \--1d. Pokemon encountered before obtaining Poke Balls do not count as encounters.  
> \--1e. Exception: You are allowed to catch more than one Pokémon in the Bug Catching Contest, but if and only if all you want to do is win the Sun Stone. All catches after the first encounter do NOT count towards adding points and MUST be released at the end of the Contest.  
> \--1f. Exception: You CANNOT catch any legendary Pokémon. If you encounter Entei, Raikou or Suicune as your first catch, skip them and catch whatever comes next.
> 
> 2\. If a Pokemon faints, it is dead and you must permanently box or release it.
> 
> 3\. Give everything a nickname! Autumn is a time for getting closer with everything around you.  
> \--3a. Autumn-themed nicknames will earn you kudos. Nothing official, score-wise, and it's not expected, but it's an idea.
> 
> 4\. If you have caught a Pokemon with a trade evolution, it may be hacked in at Level 40.  
> \--4a. For item-based trades, you may hack in the evolution whenever you find the item in question.  
> \--4b. For cartridge players, regular trade evolutions may not be made until Level 40. Item-based trade evolutions are as normal.
> 
> 5\. It's Not Christmas Quite Yet: No gift Pokemon are allowed. This includes the Game Corner and the Togepi egg, but does not include your starter.

So bland was the ceiling that it was unfathomable that somebody could lie there on a plain white bed and stare at it for hours on end. And yet, the girl had no intention of stopping. It was a vicious cycle, really. She scolded herself for being so boring, but because of her constant self-criticism, it became a decent part of what she focused on. The other half, well-- she was listening for any signs of suspicious activity, any signs of people approaching her room. It’d been a couple hours now, so she supposed the coast was clear; after all, it was honestly quite pitiful how incompetent security here was.

From her suitcase she pulled out a bag of screws. From her backpack, bits of mechanical parts and red plastic, and from her jacket, a pocket screwdriver. Wrinkled schematics were unfolded and laid down on the mattress. The scattered pieces of junk were intricately placed and reassembled under a scrutinizing eye, slowly and ever-so-slowly consolidating into a once-again cohesive whole. Long strands of dark teal brushed over the working hands, creating a veil over the progress until it receded when the girl leaned back to stretch her back. The sun had set well before she’d decided she was done with it for the day. After all, she had two entire months until she would reach her destination. She wasn’t in any kind of hurry.

She glanced at the digital alarm clock on her dresser. Seven fifteen. The Academy Welcoming Celebration was in fifteen minutes.

Might as well rise from her reticence, she supposed. There wasn’t much to do in her room, thanks to the dearth of entertainment she had packed for herself. The best things she had were her phone and laptop, but at this very second she felt no need or want to use them. She was on a luxury cruise liner, built for the sake of elegance and frivolous, yet “high-class” entertainment. Because of the unspoken precept of formality, there was a bit of a tacit dress code for any sort of gathering on the ship; her instructor had warned her about this beforehand, so she did not come unprepared.

The girl slipped out of her casual black clothing and into the dress that she had packed in her suitcase. She stepped into the bathroom to peer at her reflection in the full-body mirror. Slightly disheveled strands of dark teal hair fell past her collarbone and down to her waist. The black of her knee-length, sweetheart-necklined cocktail dress contrasted sharply with her pale complexion. She had no intention of splattering make-up or excessive jewelry all over her face and body; it was unnecessary and she didn’t own any either way. The only decoration she had on her was a beautiful topaz necklace, the jewel a shape of a cat’s eye and the color a stunning shade of amber. Her fingers fiddled with the gold chain as she stared at her reflection in agitation. Maybe she could deign to wear a dress, but the black Converse shoes were staying.

As the girl rushed out the door, she attempted to smooth the poofy layers of her dress with her hands. Black glitter from the edges rubbed off onto her hands, causing her to let out a _tsk_ of annoyance while she walked down the hall towards the main deck. It’d be a miracle if the glitter didn’t spread.

\--

A teenaged boy with windswept hair the color of dull copper stuck a key into a door way below the decks of the S.S. Anne, but not before he scanned the premises for any sign of another human. Then, turning the knob, he pushed through the doorway into the darkness.  
After feeling around the wall for a while, he flipped the switch and the room was illuminated by a single dingy light bulb; immediately, several boxes swaying slightly to the cadence of the waves came into sight. Dropping his backpack, he closed the door behind him and retrieved a smaller box, hidden in a niche next to the hinge of the door. Without another word, he packed it into his backpack. He’d caught a glimpse earlier of somebody who he thought would want what he had in there. And oh, how lovely she looked in that dress of hers. His client could bear to miss one.

\--

Suffering through the prosaic drone of the host’s opening speech should’ve been enough to send the teal-haired girl straight back to her room, but somehow people-watching managed to toy with a bit of her interest. It was amusing to see how awkwardly her peers were with one another, especially while dancing. It was kind of ridiculous, how long some of those dresses were. They would be a hassle to fight in if the need were to arise. She swirled the sparkling cider around in her wine glass. Now was the best time to analyze them, while their guards were down. Observe their behavior, pinpoint their tells...

 _I might have to face them one day,_ she mused. 

The girl leaned back onto the steel railing of the deck and took another sip of her cider. The sweet taste tingled on her tongue. 

“Why, look who it is!  The infamous sweet-Hart,” a voice sounded behind her, dripping with sarcasm. The girl’s scarlet eyes widened as she stared straight ahead. There was only one person who had ever called her by that nickname.

“Shane?” she turned to face the source of the voice. About five feet away from her was a copper-haired boy dressed in a neat grey suit. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he leaned back against one of the boat’s structures with a confident-- maybe even cocky demeanor. He returned her gaze with a smirk; mischief danced in his silver eyes.

“The one and only,” he chuckled, slightly bowing his head at her. He strolled a bit closer to close the distance between them. 

“Please. What have I done to deserve your _dreaded_ presence?” the girl drawled coyly. “Honestly, I’d prefer Daisy over you any day.”

“Aw, c’mon, Alice,” Shane teased. “You know you missed me.”

Alice shrugged, even though both of them knew it was true. Ever since she’d left, she’d never kept in contact with him. Things were still a bit...tense between the two. But just because she wasn’t exactly friendly with him anymore didn’t mean that his absence didn’t affect her at all.

“In fact, I have something for you,” Shane said, taking a thin red square from his pocket. Each corner was decorated by two curved lines in the shapes of half-semicircles, and its exterior was sleek and smooth. It had a glowing, pale blue interior underneath the red shell, exposed in the form of a circle in the middle. The shell could be pulled in opposite directions to expose more of the pale blue interior. He quickly scanned the area for prying eyes, then handed it to a wide-eyed Alice. 

“Is that--?”

“Yes. From Kalos.” Shane placed it in her free hand. 

“How did you--?” A smile slowly started to grace Alice’s lips as her eyes were tinted with disbelief. She let out a short laugh, then shook her head. “You’re a _lifesaver_ , Shane! If I didn’t have my hands full I’d probably kiss you right now!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes, coughing a bit into his fist. His grey gaze wandered off to the side. “Just...keep quiet about it.”

“I know, I know,” Alice droned. Her eyes flickered with a bit of doubt, but nonetheless she managed a small smile. “How’d you get your hands on this, anyways?”

Shane chuckled, turning his palms up and shrugging as if to say “it wasn’t that big of a deal”. “I have my ways.”

She nodded and slipped it under her dress, into a web of straps attached to the knife sheath bound to her upper thigh. Shane snorted in amusement.

“Same old Alice,” he murmured to himself, adjusting his blue tie. 

Alice didn’t seem to hear. She was behaving too absentmindedly, her red gaze jaded. Off somewhere else in her mind, perhaps, whilst she stood with her arm around her waist, around her solar plexus. She pursed her lips and looked down at the cider she was swirling for a few moments before Shane broke the silence by clearing his throat. 

“So...did you actually miss me?” he murmured, his mischievous facade gone. Alice shrugged in response. “Because...I missed you.”

“Shane Oak? _Missing someone?_ ” she snorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She took another sip of her apple cider. There was still about a quarter of the glass left. “That’s hilarious.”

“We were with each other for pretty much our _entire lives_ , Little Miss Not-So-Sweet-Hart.” His voice rose slightly, tinged with a slight mocking tone. But after a short pause, he looked at Alice with hurt in his dull grey eyes. “You left without saying goodbye.”

“I had a reason,” she snapped. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I seriously messed up, Alice, but it’s been years. You have to get over it eventual--”

But before Shane could finish his sentence, Alice had already shoved her wine glass into his hands and stormed off-- leaving him standing there with words still hanging in his mouth and nowhere to send them as he stared after her, then down at the apple cider he was slowly swirling in his hand. He took a sip of the cider. The sweet taste tingled on his tongue as he groaned and mentally kicked himself-- stupid, stupid, stupid. So bland was the ceiling that it was unfathomable that somebody could lie there on a plain white bed and stare at it for hours on end. And yet, the girl had no intention of stopping. It was a vicious cycle, really. She scolded herself for being so boring, but because of her constant self-criticism, it became a decent part of what she focused on. The other half, well-- she was listening for any signs of suspicious activity, any signs of people approaching her room. It’d been a couple hours now, so she supposed the coast was clear; after all, it was honestly quite pitiful how incompetent security here was.

From her suitcase she pulled out a bag of screws. From her backpack, bits of mechanical parts and red plastic, and from her jacket, a pocket screwdriver. Wrinkled schematics were unfolded and laid down on the mattress. The scattered pieces of junk were intricately placed and reassembled under a scrutinizing eye, slowly and ever-so-slowly consolidating into a once-again cohesive whole. Long strands of dark teal brushed over the working hands, creating a veil over the progress until it receded when the girl leaned back to stretch her back. The sun had set well before she’d decided she was done with it for the day. After all, she had two entire months until she would reach her destination. She wasn’t in any kind of hurry.

She glanced at the digital alarm clock on her dresser. Seven fifteen. The Academy Welcoming Celebration was in fifteen minutes.

Might as well rise from her reticence, she supposed. There wasn’t much to do in her room, thanks to the dearth of entertainment she had packed for herself. The best things she had were her phone and laptop, but at this very second she felt no need or want to use them. She was on a luxury cruise liner, built for the sake of elegance and frivolous, yet “high-class” entertainment. Because of the unspoken precept of formality, there was a bit of a tacit dress code for any sort of gathering on the ship; her instructor had warned her about this beforehand, so she did not come unprepared.

The girl slipped out of her casual black clothing and into the dress that she had packed in her suitcase. She stepped into the bathroom to peer at her reflection in the full-body mirror. Slightly disheveled strands of dark teal hair fell past her collarbone and down to her waist. The black of her knee-length, sweetheart-necklined cocktail dress contrasted sharply with her pale complexion. She had no intention of splattering make-up or excessive jewelry all over her face and body; it was unnecessary and she didn’t own any either way. The only decoration she had on her was a beautiful topaz necklace, the jewel a shape of a cat’s eye and the color a stunning shade of amber. Her fingers fiddled with the gold chain as she stared at her reflection in agitation. Maybe she could deign to wear a dress, but the black Converse shoes were staying.

As the girl rushed out the door, she attempted to smooth the poofy layers of her dress with her hands. Black glitter from the edges rubbed off onto her hands, causing her to let out a tsk of annoyance while she walked down the hall towards the main deck. It’d be a miracle if the glitter didn’t spread.

 

A teenaged boy with windswept hair the color of dull copper stuck a key into a door way below the decks of the S.S. Anne, but not before he scanned the premises for any sign of another human. Then, turning the knob, he pushed through the doorway into the darkness.  
After feeling around the wall for a while, he flipped the switch and the room was illuminated by a single dingy light bulb; immediately, several boxes swaying slightly to the cadence of the waves came into sight. Dropping his backpack, he closed the door behind him and retrieved a smaller box, hidden in a niche next to the hinge of the door. Without another word, he packed it into his backpack. He’d caught a glimpse earlier of somebody who he thought would want what he had in there. And oh, how lovely she looked in that dress of hers. His client could bear to miss one.

 

Suffering through the prosaic drone of the host’s opening speech should’ve been enough to send the teal-haired girl straight back to her room, but somehow people-watching managed to toy with a bit of her interest. It was amusing to see how awkwardly her peers were with one another, especially while dancing. It was kind of ridiculous, how long some of those dresses were. They would be a hassle to fight in if the need were to arise. She swirled the sparkling cider around in her wine glass. Now was the best time to analyze them, while their guards were down. Observe their behavior, pinpoint their tells...

I might have to face them one day, she mused. 

The girl leaned back onto the steel railing of the deck and took another sip of her cider. The sweet taste tingled on her tongue. 

“Why, look who it is!  The infamous sweet-Hart,” a voice sounded behind her, dripping with sarcasm. The girl’s scarlet eyes widened as she stared straight ahead. There was only one person who had ever called her by that nickname.

“Shane?” she turned to face the source of the voice. About five feet away from her was a copper-haired boy dressed in a neat grey suit. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he leaned back against one of the boat’s structures with a confident-- maybe even cocky demeanor. He returned her gaze with a smirk; mischief danced in his silver eyes.

“The one and only,” he chuckled, slightly bowing his head at her. He strolled a bit closer to close the distance between them. 

“Please. What have I done to deserve your dreaded presence?” the girl drawled coyly. “Honestly, I’d prefer Daisy over you any day.”

“Aw, c’mon, Alice,” Shane teased. “You know you missed me.”

Alice shrugged, even though both of them knew it was true. Ever since she’d left, she’d never kept in contact with him. Things were still a bit...tense between the two. But just because she wasn’t exactly friendly with him anymore didn’t mean that his absence didn’t affect her at all.

“In fact, I have something for you,” Shane said, taking a thin red square from his pocket. Each corner was decorated by two curved lines in the shapes of half-semicircles, and its exterior was sleek and smooth. It had a glowing, pale blue interior underneath the red shell, exposed in the form of a circle in the middle. The shell could be pulled in opposite directions to expose more of the pale blue interior. He quickly scanned the area for prying eyes, then handed it to a wide-eyed Alice. 

“Is that--?”

“Yes. From Kalos.” Shane placed it in her free hand. 

“How did you--?” A smile slowly started to grace Alice’s lips as her eyes were tinted with disbelief. She let out a short laugh, then shook her head. “You’re a lifesaver, Shane! If I didn’t have my hands full I’d probably kiss you right now!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes, coughing a bit into his fist. His grey gaze wandered off to the side. “Just...keep quiet about it.”

“I know, I know,” Alice droned. Her eyes flickered with a bit of doubt, but nonetheless she managed a small smile. “How’d you get your hands on this, anyways?”

Shane chuckled, turning his palms up and shrugging as if to say “it wasn’t that big of a deal”. “I have my ways.”

She nodded and slipped it under her dress, into a web of straps attached to the knife sheath bound to her upper thigh. Shane snorted in amusement.

“Same old Alice,” he murmured to himself, adjusting his blue tie. 

Alice didn’t seem to hear. She was behaving too absentmindedly, her red gaze jaded. Off somewhere else in her mind, perhaps, whilst she stood with her arm around her waist, around her solar plexus. She pursed her lips and looked down at the cider she was swirling for a few moments before Shane broke the silence by clearing his throat. 

“So...did you actually miss me?” he murmured, his mischievous facade gone. Alice shrugged in response. “Because...I missed you.”

“Shane Oak? Missing someone?” she snorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She took another sip of her apple cider. There was still about a quarter of the glass left. “That’s hilarious.”

“We were with each other for pretty much our entire lives, Little Miss Not-So-Sweet-Hart.” His voice rose slightly, tinged with a slight mocking tone. But after a short pause, he looked at Alice with hurt in his dull grey eyes. “You left without saying goodbye.”

“I had a reason,” she snapped. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I seriously messed up, Alice, but it’s been years. You have to get over it eventual--”

But before Shane could finish his sentence, Alice had already shoved her wine glass into his hands and stormed off-- leaving him standing there with words still hanging in his mouth and nowhere to send them as he stared after her, then down at the apple cider he was slowly swirling in his hand. He took a sip of the cider. The sweet taste tingled on his tongue as he groaned and mentally kicked himself-- stupid, stupid, stupid.


End file.
